


Defeat

by hc2323



Category: Political RPF, Political RPF - US 21st c.
Genre: Angst, F/M, Heavy Drinking, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 07:30:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9425963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hc2323/pseuds/hc2323
Summary: In her darkest hours, he is always there.





	

**Author's Note:**

> very angsty, hurt post-election Hillary one shot. i debated on wether to post this now, since i'm sure we could all use a pick me up from the latest events in politics, but it's been sitting on my computer for a while so i decided to go for it.
> 
> fair warning: probably a little ooc, and definitely darker.
> 
> please feel free to leave suggestions for how i can improve or anything else you'd like to see!

She filled her glass for the third time in only fifteen minutes. Pale fingers clutching the glass as if it were the last on earth, she raised it to her lips and took a deep, healthy swig of amber liquid, almost cherishing the burn it produced as it traveled down her throat. Another long drink followed. A third. A fourth, anything to rid her of the hurt, the pain, the disappointment, sense of failure, the weight crushing her chest and lungs. Sinking down to the cold bathroom floor, shaky hands flung the glass tumbler away from herself, allowing it to shatter against the base of the sink. 

“Hillary.” She felt his eyes from the doorway, peering down at her. Hillary Rodham Clinton was not generally the person one expected to find drowning her sorrows in liquor at ungodly hours of the night; she had stood strong through personal tragedy, harsh trials, difficult choices, unwavered by years of criticism- relentless, ugly, grisly criticism. She did not expect November 8, 2016 to finally be the thing to shatter her into millions of tiny pieces. Face barren, devoid of color or expression, she turned to face her husband of 41 years. “You’re going to kill yourself like this…” his voice broke as he spoke again, quietly surveying the damage. Glass littered the floor, and a cut on her leg from the shards dripped deep red onto white marble. Bill knelt down gently beside her. “Please, baby, don’t do this to yourself…” tears fell from his eyes. In nearly 46 years, he had never seen Hillary so utterly… defeated. 

She remained still for a few seconds, staring into blank space. “Am I ever enough?” Words finally escaped from her lips. If Bill had doubts about anything worse happening to his heart after surgery, hell, was he wrong. It broke in half. 

“You are so enough, darling. I can’t even explain to you how enough you are.” His hands grabbed her own instinctively, pulling her limp body into his. “America fucking deserved you. Don’t you ever dare doubt that you are enough.” His own anger shone through his words as he held her, fingers tangled into her blonde waves. He felt hot, salty tears roll onto his chest, soaking through the grey t shirt he wore. It had been weeks since she allowed herself to cry, trying to bear the earth shattering internal pain she didn’t quite know how to express. Carefully, Bill shifted position so he could lift his wife from the cold floor. Hillary did not protest for the sake of her husband’s back, for once. He carried her into their bedroom and immediately went about finding a change of pajamas and more blankets. Satisfied with an old t shirt he knew she loved, he got her changed and wrapped up like a baby. Settling in his arms, she laid her head back on his chest, still silent except for the sound of her breathing as a large hand rubbed circles on her back. “I would give anything to take your pain away, baby.. anything. That bastard doesn’t hold a goddamn candle to you!” 

“I was so certain this time.. two years, I slave over this, cry over this, over people I want to help and issues I need to fix, I dedicate my life to children, women, to my country… and I still can’t beat a man who can’t fucking spell unprecedented!!” She snapped again, anger flooding back into her being. 

“You did beat him, Hillary, you did. It’s a damn shame, disgusting, really… 3 million more votes than the electoral winner and antiquity of the system sends us all to hell.” Bill spat. Realizing he wasn’t helping to console her, he took a breath and calmed his mind. “I can’t change the outcome but I am always by your side, Hill.” Cradling his wife, he pressed soft kisses into her hair. “I can’t stand to watch you degrade yourself, though. I don’t want you to go through this alone, baby. Please don’t scare me like this again.” 

“I-..I couldn’t get rid of the pain.. and you were asleep.” She admitted.

“Wake me up.” He declared. “I am not allowing you to handle this all yourself. You could have hurt yourself so bad at the rate you were-“ Hillary cut him off before he could finish. 

“Please just hold me.. I need you right now.” She pulled herself as close to Bill as she physically could, needing to feel enveloped by his arms and warmth. He stroked her blonde locks, silent for a few moments. 

“I love you so much Hillary. You are always my champion." he whispered to her. 

"I love you too." She muttered softly into his chest, trying to concentrate on taking even, deep breaths and calming down. 

"Tomorrow is a new day. Know that I will always be by your side, until I'm six feet under. We're going to be okay, baby. I will make sure you are okay if it kills me. I know you are a fighter and you truly take the weight of the world on your shoulders..." He stopped momentarily to kiss her nose gently. "We will keep fighting onward. We will not be defeated."


End file.
